New Girl in Town
by Wichita29x
Summary: AU. "I knew it!" Effie chirped happily. "Gale and Katniss are made for each other." Haymitch bit his lips to keep himself from laughing. "Did they both get that memo?" Offended, Effie folded her arms over her chest. "And who would suit her better? Some old fool like you?" Haymitch smirked unimpressed. "That ship has sailed, but I'm throwing my nephew into the race, Peeta."
1. Chapter 1

_For Antje. Without her - no word, no sentence, no story - would ever have been written._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"This lovely real estate belongs to Mr. Abernathy," the scout leader chirped happily, while Katniss raised her dark eyebrows questioningly and glanced over the completely neglected front garden.

"And the owner buys lottery tickets?" Her young voice sounded doubtful.

"Well, my dear, he's a difficult customer, but he always supports our organization."

Katniss sighed. How good it was that none of her former friends could see her now, she thought, as she opened the rusty gate with a noisy squeak, walking over the uneven cobblestones toward the front door. Without any success, she searched for a doorbell. Finally, she knocked firmly on the heavy oak door, waiting for a response, but nothing happened. Realizing that knocking would have no effect, she began to bang her small fist against the door.

"Wonderful, my dear," Effie Trinkets high pitched voice sounded cheerfully from the garden fence and Katniss sighed again, turning her head and shouting over her shoulder, "My name is Katniss, Miss Trinket; Katniss!"

"Yes, my dear, I know." The scout leader sounded happy as ever, waving her hand towards her, and for the moment, Katniss simply gave up.

Frowning, with drooping shoulders, the young woman turned back to the door. "Hello, is anyone at home?" she called, so loudly that she was sure they'd hear her in the next village.

After all, she was able to hear heavy footsteps on the other side of the door. A key was turned with a screech and the dark entrance door was torn open.

Involuntary, Katniss took a step back as she stared into the pale, haggard face before her. The man's badly shaven cheek remembered the girl of goat while his greasy, clumpy hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in weeks. Her eyes gazed at the bottle of whiskey in his hand, then went down to his bare white feet. Giving herself a kick and making her stare less obvious, she tried her best to ignore his thin dressing gown, wearing over an ugly pair of pajama pants.

"Yes?" Abernathy asked while his free hand went instinctively to his eyes, shielding them from the bright sunshine.

Taking in a deep breath, the young woman rattled off her small, boring speech. "My name is Katniss Everdeen, I'm the new head of the local girl scouts, and I wanted to ask you if you could support our group and buy a lottery ticket."

The man looked down at her and tried to follow her words with his fogged mind. "What?" he asked again; mystified, taking a long pull from his bottle for moral support.

Katniss swallowed hard; if Miss Trinket hadn't been waiting for her on the other side of the gate, she would have already turned around and run away. Anyone could see that this undertaking was pointless.

"Yoo-hoo, Haymitch!" Effie's voice sounded delightedly from behind, and the girl asked herself how someone could sound so artificial and entirely happy at the same time.

Haymitch's blurred gaze tried to focus on the owner of the voice. Finally he managed it and snorted derisively. "Not that old harpy..." he said through thin lips and Katniss hoped that his rough voice hadn't carried to the garden fence. "I'll buy a batch," he slurred. "But she," he lifted his right hand and pointed with the bottle towards the garishly attired scout leader, "must stay away."

"Ok, sir." The girl gritted her teeth. She didn't give a damn if she sold anything or not, she just wanted to say goodbye to him as quickly as possible.

Leaving his whiskey on the balustrade, the man disappeared into his dark house. A few moments later she heard cupboard doors banging open and shut, accompanied by a stream of colorful curses. Embarrassed, Katniss's face stayed warm until Haymitch finally reappeared in the doorway, pressing a crumpled hundred dollar note into her hand.

"Enough?" he asked from behind a curtain of filthy hair.

Stunned, she stared at the note. "Yes, sir."

She'd expected anything; a few cents, even pennies, but not this. "For that much money you get fifty tickets, sir!" Frantically, she searched for more ticket batches in her outdated fanny pack.

"Keep the change," the man answered as he turned around and shuffled back inside, slamming the heavy door behind him.

"Mr. Abernathy!" Katniss called after him. "Your tickets – you've forgotten your tickets!" Irritated, the young woman looked down at the pack of batches in her hands. Making up her mind, she walked to the front door, bent down and shoved the pack through the mail slot, listening to it thump onto the floor inside.

Sold was sold.

...

"Who was that?" Katniss asked, totally baffled, still holding the crumpled hundred dollar note in her hand.

Effie's laughter filled the car as she pressed on the gas and switched gears. Both women sat in Miss Trinket's elegant two-seater, a modern sports car which no one would ever have expected to find in the lonely countryside while they were heading back to the small village.

"That was Haymitch Abernathy, our beautiful town's very own resident drinker."

Katniss frowned. "Drinker?" she echoed, her dark eyes fixed on the passing trees on the roadside.

"Please, don't worry about that impossible man," Effie replied lightly. "We won't see him again till next year."

"He seemed to know you," Katniss pointed out.

Effie rolled her eyes in amusement. "Of course he knows me. Everybody knows everyone in the country; that doesn't mean anything."

Katniss didn't believe a single world, but she simply shrugged and glanced down at her knotted fingers.

Only two month ago, she and her small family had moved from Richmond to this tiny village in the isolated mountains of Kentucky, the hometown of her mom, which Katniss had only known from rare visits as a little girl. But after the tragic death of her beloved father some years ago, her mother couldn't afford any longer the high rent of the small flat in the city.

To her deep regret, she knew no one, and after moving into the abandoned and rundown house of her late grandparents, the young woman had started working part-time in a small coffee shop in the neighboring town, serving cheap food and warm beer to old, ugly truck drivers, and finally giving up her dream of going to college.

Unfortunately, she hadn't inherited her father's warm, winning personality. No matter where she appeared, strangers always thought she was cold and aloof. Therefore, Katniss was more than grateful when the always cheerful scout leader took her under her wing.

Even though Katniss had known Effie for only a month, she had never seen her without perfect make-up on. The rest of the small town population hadn't heard anything of the latest fashion trends, but Miss Trinket seemed to have been born in skinny jeans and high heels. Even her long shiny blonde hair was perfect with every movement of her head. It was impossible to imagine Effie pitching or fishing with her artificially long fingernails and dramatic black eyeliner.

"I'm so proud of you," Effie trilled, yanking the young woman out of her thoughts. "I cannot remember the last time I had such a diligent and responsible teen in my group."

Katniss forced herself not to roll her eyes. "I'm not a teenager anymore, Miss Trinket."

"I won't tell anyone," Effie giggled, and waved her bright turquoise fingernails. "We girls must stick together and make ourselves a little bit younger." She parked her red-colored BMW in front of the Scouts headquarters and turned eagerly to Katniss. "Is there anyone back in Richmond who owns your heart, my dear?" Effie asked innocently.

Yes, there was someone. Blond, broad-shouldered, with radiant sea-green eyes. How many hours had she spent daydreaming about the most successful quarterback at her school?

Countless hours.

She had tried to catch his attention at every opportunity, at team sports, charity events or the annual school ball but he had never so much as glanced in her direction. In the end, he had fallen in love with a red-haired, elf-like beauty. To Katniss's great disappointment, his beloved was the complete opposite of her, in every possible way.

"No, Miss Trinket, there's no one."

"Perfect, my dear!" The scout leader smiled at her. "Our annual ball takes place in spring, and I promise you, by the end of the year, I'll have you successfully hooked up or my name isn't Effie Trinket!"

With these words, she winked conspiratorially with her long, false eyelashes, and Katniss wondered what she had done to deserve this.

* * *

_Author's note: All of my stories are based on the movies/actors, not on the books._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Her old rusty Ford looked exactly like the house she'd just parked in front of it. Katniss was sure that it had once been beautiful but now trees and hedges had grown wild, and her gaze wandered from the neglected front yard to the loose shingles, and further to the peeling white paint on the wood cladding.

Not unlike the house of her late grandparents in which she and her family now lived; but while this house could be lovely, even beautiful, that of her family would always be little better than an over-sized dog kennel.

Katniss sighed and opened the driver's door with a loud squeak. Fickle fate had decided that Haymitch Abernathy was this year's winner of the annual Scout lottery. In totally disbelief, Effie Trinket had compared the lottery numbers again and again, countless times, until she had given up in despair.

Finally, she had delegated the honor of congratulating the lucky winner to Katniss, and just as one month before, the girl banged her fists against the front door and shouting his name loudly. But today, the door stayed locked and nothing could be heard except for the rustle of spring leaves in the wind.

Cursing, knowing that the odds were never in her favour, she walked down the steps and looked past the garage; she could see a modern pick-up which looked like it had not been moved since the last snow. So the owner must be at home the girl thought as she walked soundlessly through the high grass, reaching the rear side of the house.

Soundless as if she were hunting for prey, the young woman walked up the steps of the porch and knocked on the back door. "Mr. Abernathy?" Katniss held her breath, listening for footsteps, but was only able to hear her own blood rushing in her ears. "It's Katniss Everdeen from the local Scouts, Mr. Abernathy, are you at home?"

Nothing.

Katniss glanced through a large dusty window – and jumped as if she'd been struck by lightning. Her eyes had caught sight of an unconscious man, lying face-down on the wooden floor.

"No!" The girl screamed in horror, and before she knew what she was doing, she picked up a rusty spade from the porch and flung it with full force against the window.

The glass broke into countless pieces and without hesitation, Katniss stepped through the broken window into the house, her thick, old leather jacket protecting her from the razor-sharp pieces of glass.

"Mr. Abernathy?" She shouted his name, and in two long steps she was by his side, turning the unconscious man onto his back while calling frantically his name as she started with trembling fingers a heart massage.

Haymitch decided that something was different than usual; it was as if a woman's voice was shouting his name from a great distance, while at the same time somebody was dragging at his clothes and beating against his chest.

Very slowly, he opened one eye until he saw a girl through the narrow slit. It had to be a dream, the last time a female had approached him was years ago.

Full of despair, she reached out, grasped his face in both hands and pressed her lips against his. Desperately hoping that a mouth-to-mouth resuscitation would save his life.

Whichever brand of whiskey was responsible for this sweet dream, Haymitch decided to buy up the entire stock. To better enjoy the lovely dream, he opened his mouth, searching for her tongue, while his heavy hands grabbed her slender hips…

Bam!

Before he knew what was happening, she'd given him a painful slap right across the pale face.

"Are you crazy?" Katniss hissed disgusted, wiping her full lips with the back of her hand.

"Shit!" Haymitch groaned, reaching for his throbbing cheek, wondering if the girl usually split firewood with her bare hands, while his dull eyes found the broken window.

Slowly, he raised an eyebrow at the young woman who was still kneeling beside him. "Start talking, sweetheart," he drawled, pushing the unwashed hair out of his face. "But go slowly. Who are you, what are you doing in my house, and why is the glass broken?"

With a quick movement, Katniss got to her feet and straightened her Scout neckerchief. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Congratulations, Mr. Abernathy; you won first prize in the annual Scout lottery." Katniss held out her right hand to him, ready to shake hands with the lucky winner.

"That's why you broke my window and licked my face?"

Katniss stared back at him in disbelief. "That was mouth-to-mouth resuscitation! I thought you were having a heart attack..."

"Do you always kiss that badly?" he challenged her, not bothering to hide his wry smile.

Suddenly, the penny dropped and Katniss understood why Miss Trinket had left her the _honor_ of congratulating him.

"Well, let's make this brief, Mr. Abernathy; your batch won." Katniss reached for Haymitch's calloused hand, who was still sitting on the floor and didn't look as if he would be getting up any time soon, and shook it resolutely.

"I'd like to congratulate you on winning a trip to South America." The young woman said as quickly as possible.

"South America?" Haymitch bit his lower lip to keep himself from laughing. "Who came up with that crap?"

The young woman paled in anger, and spoke with controlled effort. "Where is the batch? I have to check the winning number."

Haymitch snorted, and waved his hand around the mess in his large living room. "Good luck!" he mocked.

Scowling, she slipped her long braid off her shoulder and strolled forward, looking pointedly around; dust, papers, dirty clothes and empty whiskey bottles filled the dark room.

"You should look for a new cleaner," Katniss said dryly as she wrinkled her nose, searching for the batches while she shifted books and manuscripts on the sticky coffee table.

"Are you volunteering?" Haymitch asked snidely, giving her a smug grin.

Katniss didn't take the bait and breathed out in relief as she found the batches under some old, dusty magazines. Quickly, she picked out the winning ticket and held it out to the lucky winner.

Groaning, Haymitch rose from the wooden floor, rubbing his stiff back with both hands.

Katniss advanced a step. "Yours."

"Keep it," Haymitch replied, carefully examining the broken glass on the floor.

"You don't understand: you won. The trip is worth at least $20,000; you'll travel to Machu Pichu…"

"Already been," he interrupted her.

Katniss snorted. The man would probably say he'd already been to the moon just to annoy her.

"Anyway, the trip belongs to you."

"And I'm giving it to you."

"I can't accept it, our statutes say..."

"Fuck it!" Haymitch turned towards her. "Are you always so boringly correct?"

Katniss face burned while she gave him her sourest look. Given all the rubbish which was lying around, the girl could only hope she hadn't caught an illness from the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

"Okay," she spat. "I'll take the damn ticket and ask Miss Trinket what to do with it."

Slightly amused, he glanced at her and the girl had the uncomfortable feeling that he was able to read every one of her thoughts.

"You'll be hearing from us, Mr. Abernathy."

"See you soon, sweetheart," he called after her.

The heavy front door slammed shut and Haymitch had to admit that this new member of their small village community had spunk.

... 

One day later, there was a knock on his door, and Haymitch wondered if somehow his house had turned into a dovecote. Nothing else could explain so many visits in so few days. Still wearing his oldest pajamas and carrying a bottle of whiskey in his hand, he shuffled down the entrance hall.

"Hello Haymitch." Effie chirped happily.

He groaned, leaning casually against the wooden doorframe. "What do you want, Trinket?"

"No manners, as always." she sniffed. "When a lady calls you should invite her inside."

"Which lady?" he challenged her.

Effie crossed her arms over her chest and pouted with her bright red-colored lips. "I remember a time when you couldn't get me into your house fast enough."

He shrugged in his easy, nonchalant manner, and took a long drink of whiskey before answering.

"Nope."

Totally annoyed by his behaviour, she stamped her spiky high heel. "How dare you turn down the prize? Do you have no shame? God knows I don't expect any miracles, but is just an ounce of courtesy too much to ask for?"

Laughing, Haymitch leaned forward, his warm breath touching her cold skin. "Courtesy? Eff, do you even know how to write that word?"

"Katniss won't accept the prize," she hissed. "The Scouts will officially accept the win as a generous donation."

Haymitch took another sip from his bottle before nodding and toasting her.

"Great." he mocked.

Effie pursed her lips before continuing. "As thanks for your gracious donation, I hereby invite you to our annual spring ball, where the mayor will honor you –"

"Forget it!" Haymitch spat.

"Put on your best suit, darling." Effie acted as if she hadn't heard his last words. "Katniss will pick you up at seven; and don't you dare tease that poor girl again. Or I'll force you to dance with me at the ball."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"She's cute, simply gorgeous." Effie's colorful eyelashes fluttered as she tapped her long fingernails on the wooden counter top. "Well, I must also confess that she is a bit aloof, taciturn and has no sense of fashion at all."

A vegetable crate was placed next to Effie. "And you think she is my type?" asked the young man, who was still holding the box.

"Well, my dear, I guess we have to work a little bit on her appearance." Effie frowned slightly, but not so much that it would leave any wrinkles on her flawless face. "But her character has potential."

"I don't know, Aunt Effie ..."

"Shhh," Effie hissed, and glanced quickly from left to right. She wasn't the only customer in the grocery shop. "Please don't call me 'Aunt', Gale; it makes me at least 10 years older!"

With a big grin on his face, the handsome young man leaned casually against the counter, watching her as he shrugged his shoulder. "Everybody in the village knows you're my aunt."

"Everybody in our lovely town knows that I'm the much younger half-sister of your mother." Effie answered in a very determined tone. If anybody dared to take a guess that she was older than 32, they would pay with their life. As a scout leader, she knew exactly where the darkest corners of the forest were to be found and how to dig very effective and deep holes.

"I know." Gale leaned down, giving her a light kiss on her cold cheek. "And you are still the most beautiful woman in town."

"Charmer." Effie grinned back.

...

Katniss honked the horn of her old Ford. She had sworn to herself to keep honking until Abernathy appeared in the doorway. She couldn't possibly go into his house again. After their last awful meeting, she had brushed her teeth for hours and gurgled endlessly with menthol, with the hope of killing any last vestiges of his bacteria in her mouth.

Once more she pressed the horn, but nothing happened. It seemed as though the man was as stubborn as she was herself and her annoyed gaze went to the clock on the dashboard. She was running out of time. If Abernathy didn't appear soon, they would be late.

Only two hours ago, the young woman had helped to decorate the small community hall with countless garlands and lanterns. Afterwards, the room had looked pleasant, and with tasteful lighting and a decent band, the evening could be a success.

Finally tired of waiting, Katniss opened the driver's door, ready to get out and drag Haymitch out of his messy house – just as his door finally opened. The young woman was glad that she was still sitting; otherwise she would have had to sit down again to cope with the sight that met her eyes.

Haymitch Abernathy's suit had probably been outdated the day Katniss was born. The tie around his neck defied any description, and reminded the girl of a joke article. At some point his shoes must have seen shoe polish, maybe in the last decade. And his hair... Did this man even know how to use a hairbrush?

Not my problem, she told herself, and straightened her back resolutely. She only had to bring him to the ball. Nobody could force her to spend the evening with him, and certainly not to dance with him. Playing his personal chauffeur was a comparably easy task.

"Mr. Abernathy, good to see you again," she lied through her teeth.

"Same, sweetheart." With a provocative grin on his thin lips, he strolled casually towards her. "Nice dress, yours?"

"Of course!" Katniss replied angrily.

After Effie's critical inspection of the only dress Katniss owned, the Scout leader had decided the item in question was too old-fashioned to wear at the ball, and had eagerly shown the girl her collection of glamorous dresses, imploring her to borrow whichever one she liked. To Effie's deepest disappointment, she hadn't been able to convince Katniss to wear any of them.

Either they were too colorful, too glittery, or too short – or they were a mad combination of everything. In the end, Katniss and Effie had driven to the next Walmart and had bought a summer dress for the young woman. As expected, the selection of dresses was very limited, and cheap-looking polyester followed cheap-looking polyester, but finally, they found it. A simple, knee-length, tailored dress with a charming Carmen neckline.

Every time Katniss had pulled the dress further up her slender shoulders, Effie came and pulled it back down. Always with the comment on her pink-colored lips that a girl should show what nature had given to her.

Generously, Effie had paid for the dress, adding some elegant strappy sandals, afraid that Katniss would appear in her old, ugly sneakers. Slowly, the young woman began to suspect that Effie Trinket was carrying out some secret plan.

"Okay, let's go. Otherwise we'll be late," the young woman said, valiantly ignoring his unusual appearance.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart."

Annoyed, Katniss rolled her eyes and wished the evening was already over. She assumed that Haymitch danced as if he had a wooden leg.

...

"Haymitch, you look like a circus clown," Effie hissed furiously.

"Could be."

"At least you could have taken a shower for the mayor."

"No chance, Trinket."

"You are absolutely impossible!"

"Do you have a mirror at home, Eff?" he snapped back. "Don't they say with age less is more?"

If Effie Trinket hadn't been a real lady, she would have scraped out his piercing eyes with her razor-sharp fingernails, just to wipe the arrogant grin off his face. Finally, she turned on her high heels and walked stiffly away, angry but not defeated, looking for the ball committee.

The annual Scout ball was as thrilling as Haymitch had expected. The food and drinks were lukewarm, the band lousy and the guests boring. However, he gave a point for the ambitious lighting, which made the plain community hall look halfway romantic.

A diligent waiter handed him a paper cup with punch, and Haymitch grimaced in disgust. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulled out his flask and pimped the punch with a good shot of whiskey. Better, he decided, much better, as he sipped his drink, letting his eyes wander over the dance floor.

His eyes caught the mayor, who was dancing with his old teacher. The old maid had prophesied that Haymitch would never become anything; well he had proven her wrong. The big-bellied priest was dancing with the local grocer's gaunt wife, who had given Haymitch love letters in the second grade which he'd never answered; while Effie Trinket's nephew was dancing with Haymitch's lovely chauffeur.

Haymitch took another sip of his punch deluxe as his keen eyes followed the pair. Happiness looked different, he thought with satisfaction and grinned to himself.

"The night is simply magical," said a high-pitched voice next to him, and Haymitch shook his head in disbelief. No matter what he did, Effie always turned up again. Apparently he was cursed...

"I knew it!" she said cheerfully. "Gale and Katniss are made for each other."

He bit his lips to keep himself from laughing. "Did they both get that memo?"

"Someone who gives someone else a frog for their anniversary, which he caught in the village pond, is _not_ romantic! Certainly, you have no idea what the word romantic even means and therefore your opinion doesn't count at all," Effie snapped back.

Haymitch just shrugged and leaned casually back against the wooden wall. "I thought it was funny."

"It was idiotic!"

Not caring to talk about the past he gestured towards the dance floor as Effie in her mind had already started planning Katniss and Gale's wedding.

"A blind man could see that they don't match."

Offended, Effie folded her arms over her chest. "And who would suit her better? Someone like you, you old fool?" she hissed.

"That ship has already sailed, Trinket." He shrugged nonchalantly. "But I'm throwing my nephew into the race."

"Peeta?"

"Exactly, honey."

Effie stared back at him, licking her dry lips. Peeta Mellark was a serious competitor. The young man had very good manners, was smart and good-looking, and was currently studying far away in Kingsport. It was almost impossible to believe that he was a close relative of Haymitch Abernathy.

"Ok, it's a deal."

...

"And what do you do in your free time?"

"Hunting rabbits."

"And you?"

"The same."

"Oh…"

Gale suppressed the desire to roll his eyes. Katniss wasn't his type. Nice to look at, but otherwise boring, monosyllabic and stiff as a board when dancing.

Katniss suppressed the desire to roll her eyes. Gale wasn't her type. Nice to look at, but otherwise arrogant, monosyllabic and he couldn't dance at all. Surely, he would offer to take her home after the ball. And what would follow was as clear as night follows day. She would end up being another notch on his bedpost. If she didn't play along, she was sure his ego would be so hurt that he would tell anyone within 100 miles how bad she was in bed.

The music stopped, and Katniss and Gale let go of each other immediately, when Effie suddenly materialized between the two.

"Wonderful, just wonderful. You look fantastic together, as if you were made for each other."

Gale nodded slowly out of courtesy and glanced at his mobile. It was still before midnight and as stiffly as Katniss danced, _parking_ with her on his backseat wouldn't even take five minutes. Maybe he could pick up a cute chick afterwards in a bar.

"Okay, Kat, let's go." But there was no answer. Gale looked around, irritated: it seemed as if she'd disappeared into thin air.

...

"Katniss?" Effie shouted worriedly into the darkness. "Katniss?"

"Mind taking it down an octave, Trinket? You're driving the bats crazy."

Annoyed, Effie gazed into Haymitch's glittering eyes, who was sitting on a bench at the back of the porch, relaxed, legs outstretched, holding his flask in his hand.

"Have you seen Katniss?"

"Lost her?" he mocked.

"Idiot." Effie hissed, turning on her high heels and stalked back into the hall. Haymitch snorted and shook his head, putting the nearly empty flask to his dry lips, and took a swig, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"If you stay in those bushes any longer, sweetheart, you'll be picking ticks off your ass."

Horrified, Katniss jumped out of the old hedge and furiously slapped her bare legs and arms with her palms. Finally, she glared at Haymitch, absolutely sure that he had allowed himself another joke at her expense.

"How did you know I was hiding there?"

"Good eyes," he answered with a grin. "But the big question is, why were you hiding there? No desire to do the dishes?"

Katniss would have loved to fight back, an answer already on her lips, but decided against it. It would have been easy for him to reveal her hiding place to Effie, but he hadn't. Stiff as a board, she crossed the dark garden and stopped at the foot of the short flight of steps, looking up at him.

"Miss Trinket, wants to hook me up with her nephew..." Her voice was sour and Haymitch nodded, giving her a lopsided smile.

"Poor you."

Katniss nodded firmly and took a step behind the dark wooden porch, afraid Effie would appear in the doorway.

"And why didn't you just go home?"

"Because my handbag with my keys in it is still in the hall." She sighed, kicking herself mentally for so much stupidity.

Haymitch raised an eyebrow. "Not too smart."

"Thanks," Katniss hissed, watching Haymitch as he took another gulp from the silver shinning flask in his hand. Finally, she gave herself a push and tried her best to put her friendliest smile on her lips, not sure how the effect came across.

"Could you get my bag for me?"

Haymitch didn't move an inch. Instead his gaze wandered to his dirty fingernails; he should cut them as soon as he was home, or maybe tomorrow or…

"Please."

His thin lips stretched into a crooked smile as he turned his attention back to the girl standing at the foot of the steps.

"I promise to buy you a bottle of liquor," Katniss added hopefully.

"Deal, sweetheart."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

She could only hope he hadn't stumbled across a bottle of whiskey and completely forgotten her, or she'd be forced to spend the night in a barn. But after a few moments she heard a noise and looked up. Whistling a song through his thin lips, he strolled down the dark street, his hands buried deep in his worn out pants pockets.

"Finally..." Katniss breathed, rubbing her cold arms with her palms as she left her hiding place behind an old, gnarled maple tree. "Where's my purse?" she asked briskly, as it was nowhere in sight.

"Sorry, sweetheart, didn't see one," Haymitch answered, stopping in front of her and shrugging his shoulders.

"What? That's impossible, it must..."

Amused, he rolled his eyes, reaching into the inside pocket of his crumbled jacket and pulling out her outdated shoulder bag. Slowly, he swung it back and forth in front of her eyes. "This it?"

Impatient, she grabbed it from his hands.

"And now?" he asked, his eyes glinted with humour. "Will I get the promised bottle of liquor or shall we just say a kiss?"

Katniss's dark eyes flashed dangerously as she glared at him, ready to slap his face if he dared to touch her, but he just raised his palms reassuringly, laughing.

"I'll take the alcohol; I see you won't be bargained with."

"No," she snapped back.

"Well, see you tomorrow." He started walking down the dark road and her eyes longed for his warm, cozy jacket even if it looked like as if he had slept in it.

"Haymitch!" she called after him. "Can I have your jacket?"

"Why?"

"Why?" she repeated, tying her best not to shiver in her thin summer dress. "I'm frozen to the bone."

The man stopped and glanced questioningly at her. Finally he shrugged, deciding that she looked a little bit blue around the lips. Slowly, he took off his jacket, extracted his flask from the inside pocket, and handed the garment over.

Gratefully, the young woman reached for it and pulled the jacket on eagerly until the disgusting smell of mothballs tickled her nose.

"Good enough for you?" he asked amused, watching her changing face expression.

"Yeah, thanks..." Katniss managed to bring over her stiff lips while he approached her and slowly closed the two jacket buttons, finally stepping back and looking closely at his work. "Could have been made for you."

The girl took a deep breath and swore to hit him with a stone if he kept making fun of her.

"Adapted to the country life?" he asked as he turned around, putting his flask away and starting to walk down the dark, lonely street.

"Yes," Katniss lied, staying a few steps behind him.

"Some people here are quite eccentric, not easy to get along with."

"Really?" she gave him a quick sidelong glance, hoping he'd get the hint.

"When I first got back, I had to get used to everything all over again…"

Katniss bit her tongue; she wouldn't fall into the trap and ask him where he'd been. She wasn't that stupid.

An animal howled from a distance and she flinched involuntarily: it sounded like a lynx, not too far away from them, waiting in the undergrowth for his late supper. "Okay, where have you been?" she asked, hoping to distract herself.

"South America."

She rolled her eyes and fell back a few steps. "Oh, really?" she scoffed. "And what did you do there?" The girl wasn't sure she really wanted to hear the answer.

"Digging for gold."

Katniss snorted. "Yeah, sure..."

Haymitch smirked, not offended by her mocking words. "When I was young, I wanted out of this place, so I went to Alaska and found work on an oil rig." he drawled. "It was a good time, with good money; but unfortunately, alcohol was forbidden, which didn't do it for me."

Silently, Katniss moved closer to walk beside him, slowly forgetting about the wildcat.

"Later, I went back to the mainland. I thought as a gold miner I'd get rich quick." He laughed quietly and shook his head at his former stupidity. At that time he'd been stubborn and impertinent as hell, always knowing better than anybody else, running into trouble on more than one occasion when he wouldn't take well-meant advice.

"Did you get rich?" Katniss asked, pulling the jacket closer around her slender body.

"No," he said firmly. "I came back with empty hands, sure my girl would be waiting for me..." Haymitch paused, barely believing his own stupidity back then. "Well, to make a long story short, she preferred another guy. Someone with a lot of money."

"Oh."

"So I left the country again, heading to South America, looking for gold on my own." Both stopped as they reached the crossroad and Haymitch fell silent, looking up into the clear, cloudless evening sky, before his attention switched back to Katniss. "Digging for gold can be a dangerous addiction, you know, just like the devil alcohol."

Fascinated, she listened to his words while her eyes followed his, up to the endless, glittering stars.

"But in the end, it paid off," he said slowly. "I was lucky and found several ounces of gold; and I was smart enough not to whore it away."

The girl flinched at his harsh words. "And why did you come back?" Katniss asked hesitantly.

Haymitch kicked a grey pebble before answering. "No idea." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I was homesick or I hoped to win my girl back; who knows?"

No longer feeling the cold, she wanted to know more. "And did you win her back?"

His gaze wandered off into the distance and stayed there as he continued. "Her much older husband died and she became the richest widow in the district. Soon afterwards, she knocked on my door, asking if we could try again…" He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck while his eyes found hers. "But I didn't want any more."

Katniss swallowed hard. "I would never have guessed..."

Snorting, he pulled his hip flask out of his pocket, only to figure out that it was already empty. "Every drunkard's got a hard-luck story, sweetheart," he said humorlessly. "And what about you; do you want to tell me your sad life story, or should we wait till tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" she asked, slightly irritated, until she remembered the liquor.

"And bring my jacket back," Haymitch fell back into his usual teasing tone. "If you wash it, I wouldn't mind."

"Don't get your hopes up!" she snapped back.

But he just laughed, raising his hand in farewell, before he turned on his heel and walked slowly down the street which led to his house, and Katniss wondered if he always had to have the last word.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"I've found the perfect girlfriend for you!"

"Oh…"

"She's, she's ..." Haymitch's brain cells began to spin. Kind? No, not true. Friendly? This would also be an overstatement. Amusing? Certainly not. Finally, he proudly found a word which described the girl perfectly. "She's tall."

"Tall?" Peeta asked slightly irritated on the other side of the line. "How tall?"

"Uh, pretty," Haymitch muttered. "That isn't a problem, right?"

"No, but…"

"And she has a powerful punch."

"What?"

"I kissed her and then, well, she hit me."

"Uncle Haymitch." Peeta sighed. "I can't date a girl who you've already kissed."

"It was a tragic accident, Peeta," Haymitch drawled. "I swear; she didn't want it."

"Actually, I wanted to go..." Peeta started.

"Come on, you have to help me out here. Trinket wants to hook her up with her nephew: we can't let that happen," Haymitch growled into the phone, trying his best to make his rough voice sound as sweet as honey.

Peeta Mellark rolled his eyes in distant Kingsport, wondering why his uncle and his former fiancée couldn't behave like normal adults. "Ok, I'll come on Friday, after my lectures," he said good-naturedly.

Completely satisfied with the conversation's result, Haymitch turned off his phone and threw it into the corner of his old couch, before dropping himself on it. He had completely forgotten about the sweet freckles on her nose; but that was something his nephew should discover for himself.

…

Katniss glanced from bottle to bottle in the small grocery store, undecided on which one Haymitch would like best. Finally, she grabbed a bottle of rum, looked at it critically, and asked herself what she was doing.

Buying a bottle of high percentage was probably the dumbest thing she could do considering who she was planning to give it to. With a sigh, she reasoned that he wouldn't stop drinking just because she didn't buy the promised alcohol. Therefore she squared her shoulders and walked over to the old saleswoman at the cash register. The sales assistant peered at her over the rim of her dirty glasses, demanding to see her driver's licence before handing over the bottle.

As Katniss left the shop, the rum carefully wrapped in a brown paper bag, she literally ran into the open arms of Miss Trinket. "Katniss, darling, where have you been? We were looking for you everywhere! Gale was heartbroken not to be able to bring you home!"

"I, I..." Katniss stammered, wishing she was as eloquent as Haymitch, while her brain feverishly sought for an excuse.

"Yes, child?" Effie asked, blinking her long fake eyelashes.

"I had to go home, because my mother needed me..." Katniss answered lamely, holding the paper bag tight to her breast as Effie breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fine, my dear, I thought that perhaps you left because you didn't like Gale."

"I..."

"Wonderful, wonderful; then I'll buy you two lovebirds movie tickets for next weekend."

With these words, she gave Katniss a tender kiss on her cold cheek, careful not to smudge her lipstick, and went into the small store while Katniss did her best not to scream with frustration.

…

Her eyes wandered over the filthy porcelain further to the countless used sticky glasses which stood on the kitchen board, surrounded by a patchwork of empty bottles.

Any size, any color, any style.

Her eyes moved on to the filthy stove, sure that it hadn't been in use for months and that the homeowner probably lived entirely on the microwaved contents of cans. This would explain the countless used spoons and soup plates scattered on the side.

It was a mystery to her, how someone could run down such a beautiful, new house. Katniss didn't know much about architecture, but her reason told her that every plank, every beam, was of high quality, unlike the simple house she lived in, where everything looked like it had been stuck together with spit.

"Better, sweetheart?" came from the doorframe and Katniss looked up.

"Better."

Haymitch had greeted her eagerly, taking the paper bag out of her hands and letting the girl in. With red cheeks, she had pointed out that he had neglected to put on a shirt. Immediately, he followed her unspoken request and disappeared to the top floor, putting on something suitable.

"What did you bring me?" Haymitch asked as he strolled to the kitchen table where Katniss was sitting.

"Rum."

Haymitch's eyebrows met his hairline in approval as he looked from the bottle to Katniss. "Very good choice," he said as he took two water glasses out of the cupboard and put them on the table, filling both generously with the alcohol while Katniss tried to ignore the dirty rim of the glasses.

Haymitch lifted the glass to his lips, ready to enjoy each exquisite drop. The first sip ran down his dry throat soothingly; a second later he spat the liquid out in an arc.

"Holy shit!" he yelled, slamming the glass onto the wooden table. "What's this?"

"Water," Katniss said, without blinking an eye.

He stared at her in disbelief. "Water?"

She shrugged. "A real scout would never support an alcohol addiction."

Snorting in disbelief, he reached with both hands for the edge of the kitchen table, seeking support. His clear eyes flashed through the long strands of his hair and he began to laugh loudly. His deep laugh filled the sunny room and Katniss had to grin involuntarily, relieved he wasn't angry.

"You got me good, sweetheart," he smirked. "I should never have trusted you."

Katniss shrugged. "Still waters run deep."

"Seems like." He laughed again, before reaching for a bottle of whiskey on a nearby shelf.

"Why do you let this house go to ruin?"

Haymitch took a long sip of whiskey to clear the unpleasant taste in his mouth – after all he wasn't a fish – before he answered. "Does it look that bad?"

Katniss's eyebrows shot up in amazement. "Yes!"

Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, his eyes wandered over the countertop stacked with countless dirty plates, pans, and glasses, before moving to the stove. Not much better, he decided, running a hand over his neck. "Well," he shrugged. "I guess I'm not a homemaker."

"Have you ever thought of hiring a cleaning lady?"

"A cleaning lady?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow slightly as if he were considering this option for the first time. Finally his keen eyes found hers. "How much do you want?"

Totally caught by surprise, she nearly fell off her chair as she lifted her palms up in defence. "Oh no!"

"Why not?" he asked casually, the bottle meeting his dry lips. "I'll pay you twice what you earn now."

Katniss's chin dropped as she stared at him in disbelief. "12 dollars an hour?"

He shook his head. "You work for a lousy 6 dollars an hour. How do you survive?"

Barely, she thought. She was forced to hunt rabbits and turkeys in the forest and sell them in the next county town for a meagre sum, but she decided to keep this little secret to herself.

"12 dollars?" she repeated. "Just for cleaning some glasses and porcelain?"

"You're right, sweetheart, I don't like crooked sums either. I'll round it up to 20." Haymitch looked at her questioningly across the table, but Katniss didn't need to think twice about his offer.

"Done!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"You okay?" Haymitch asked through the closed door.

"Yes!" she shouted back in horror.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, no, everything's fine!"

Haymitch raised an eyebrow but finally shrugged. If the girl didn't need any help, he wouldn't push. "I'm gonna take a shower, if you have questions..."

"No!"

"Okay," Haymitch answered, sounding a bit huffy, and shuffled away. As soon as Katniss heard the bathroom door slam and the hot water turn on she breathed out in relief.

Only four days ago, she had enthusiastically taken up the new job, nothing in her mind but washing dishes and cleaning windows. No one had told her that doing laundry was part of it.

Groaning, she was sitting in a mountain of dirty clothes, surrounded by socks, shirts and – to her deepest horror – a collection of worn-out boxer shorts. If she had ever imagined the job would involve stuffing Haymitch's filthy underwear into the washing machine, she would have refused it without blinking an eyelid.

Groaning again, she decided to start with the shirts, putting them into the washing machine, filling up the powder compartment and looking for the right washing cycle, when she heard a knock at the front door.

Irritated, Katniss looked up, pushing a lock of hair out of her face as she listened intently. The knocking became louder and the girl got up and went down the oak staircase, wiping her dirty hands on her old, washed-out blue jeans, before opening the heavy door.

She looked straight into the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen.

"Uncle Haym..." The young man stopped mid-sentence, blinked twice, recovered himself and smiled at her. "Excuse me, Miss, I'm Peeta Mellark, isn't my uncle at home?"

Katniss struggled with herself, trying her best to stop staring into those mesmerizing eyes, before finding her voice again.

"Uh, yes, upstairs, taking a shower..." she stammered, aware of how incredibly stupid she must sound.

Peeta laughed and she realized that his smile warmed his eyes even more.

"He's taking a shower because of me?" Peeta smiled brightly. "There are still signs and wonders in the world."

"Ah."

"May I come in?" the young man asked politely, shifting his heavy travel bag from one shoulder to the other. "I'm Haymitch's nephew."

"Oh."

"Peeta?" Haymitch asked, stepping out of the bathroom and looking down the stairs. As soon as he caught a glimpse of blond hair, the older man ran down the stairs, barefoot, wearing only an ugly, thin bathrobe, and clasped the boy in his arms.

"Welcome home!" he said happily against Peeta's hair, hugging him tightly until the boy gasped for breath, while Katniss took a step back. Completely taken aback by surprise she noticed the similarities between the two of them: the same light hair, the same broad shoulders, the same angular jaws...

"May I present," Haymitch interrupted the girl's thoughts and pointed his large fingers in her direction, giving the young woman the unpleasant feeling that she was the best brood mare in town, "Katniss!"

A lump in her throat, she rubbed her moist palms together and looked everywhere apart from into the face of the young man standing before her.

"Nice to meet you." Peeta nodded politely and extended his well-groomed hand to her. Shyly, she took his hand in hers, feeling her cheeks getting hot.

Totally satisfied with himself, Haymitch grinned from ear to ear, already able to picture his former 'sweetheart' breathing fire and brimstone when she learned how completely she'd lost the battle.  
He was sure that Katniss would use her lovely dark eyes to see that Peeta was by far the better choice than Hawthorne.

"Come on in." Resolutely, he shoved the young people into the living room and gestured for both to sit down before rubbing his hands together like a good host. "So, what are you drinking? Whiskey, bourbon, brandy...?"

Peeta's eyebrows shot up, almost touching his hairline. Haymitch swallowed hard, suppressing the old habit of rubbing his forehead. What did young people usually drink at half past ten in the morning? He couldn't remember, maybe a Coke?

Finally Katniss stood up, trying her best to edge past Haymitch and escape into the kitchen. "I'll make you both a strong coffee."

"Oh no!" Reaching for her bare, slender upper arm, he pushed her back onto the leather couch, right beside Peeta. "You stay here and entertain our guest. I'll make the coffee."

With these words he disappeared into the kitchen and Katniss looked down at the clean floor, embarrassed. She heard the sound of a bottle being uncorked, and could easily picture Haymitch taking a long sip from it. What the hell is going on? She thought.

"Did you clean the place up?" Peeta asked, glancing appreciatively around the living room. "It never looked this good before."

"Thanks," the girl said hesitantly, finally looking up and letting her dark eyes wander through the large room.

On her first day at work, she'd started by collecting all the empty bottles and throwing them away. Afterwards, she had dusted the furniture and had sorted the numerous books lying all over the house back into the bookshelves.

Later she'd vacuumed the whole house, before wiping the filthy floors for hours. She couldn't remember how many times she had replaced the dirty cleaning water again and again, always with the strange feeling that Haymitch was watching her, while he was sitting on the wooden porch with a newspaper in his hand.

Finally, she had rejected the foolish idea; why on earth would he watch her? Later, when Katniss arrived home totally exhausted but with two hundred dollar notes in her hand, her mother had cried for joy while her little sister darted to and fro in the garden, picking a bouquet of wild flowers for their unknown benefactor.

The next day, the bouquet in her arms, Katniss appeared on Haymitch's doorstep and shoved the flowers into his hands. Totally irritated, he had asked her just what he was supposed to do with the weeds. The young woman had simply rolled her eyes before pushing past him to search for a vase in the depths of his kitchen cabinets.

When no vase materialized, she'd put the beautiful flowers into an old pitcher and placed it on the kitchen table. Neither Haymitch nor Katniss would ever admit that the colorful bouquet looked lovely.

"Coffee is served," Haymitch said proudly as he walked in, distracting the girl from her thoughts.

Putting down two cups of hot coffee, spoons and a packet of sugar cubes on the coffee table, he looked from one to the other, smirking. "Isn't she just like I told you?"

"Tall?" Peeta asked, his eyes on the young woman next to him.

Katniss's black brows drew together like dark storm clouds.

"What does that mean?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Popcorn?"

"No."

"No, thank you."

"No."

Haymitch shrugged. "More for me."

Only eight hours ago, Katniss had furiously stormed out of Haymitch's house, throwing her jacket and backpack into her old Ford, cursing everyone in the little township. Where was it written that she was looking for a boyfriend? Did she seem that desperate?

Well, she must, if even the village drunk wanted to hook her up with someone.

Later, still in a foul mood, she had found herself in the office of the Scout headquarters, checking invoices and delivery notes when Effie appeared in the doorway, dressed as if she was about to attend the Queen's garden party.

"Darling, here you are," she said. "Where have you been the last few days? Are you feeling well?"

"Yes," Katniss lied through her teeth, trying her best to imitate Effie's high-pitched voice.

"Wonderful, wonderful." Effie's smile widened. "Do you already know what are you wearing tonight?"

Surprised, the young woman looked up. "Tonight?" she repeated lamely.

"Yes, of course." Affected, Effie's hand wandered towards her heart. "Tonight is your date with Gale."

Katniss frowned. She had completely forgotten about the date, or more accurately, successfully repressed it. What should she do? To gain time, she looked at the old-fashioned paper calendar on the desk, tapping her pencil against it. "It's just that," Katniss swallowed hard, "I already have a date..."

"Excuse me?" The blood drained from Effie's flawless face as she dropped into the nearest wooden chair. "Who with?"

"Peeta Mel..." My God, Katniss thought, what was his name again?

Very dramatically, Effie closed her turquoise-painted eyelids and forced herself to stay calm, cursing her former lover right to hell and back again.

"Mellark," she breathed finally and Katniss nodded, keeping her eyes lowered, ready to face Effie's anger.

"I understand," Effie sniffled, looking for a handkerchief in her little purse. "Of course, we have no chance against Haymitch's nephew. But please don't forget, young lady, I've taken you in as a complete stranger, introduced you to everyone in our little town and given you an important position at work." Effie raised her head in a dramatic gesture and straightened her back, striving for dignity. "Without me, you would know no one; you would be only serving coffee in the next village."

Katniss looked up, noticeably contrite. She owed Effie something but she didn't want to end up as another notch on Gale's bed only for Effie's sake.

Finally, she drew a deep breath and made up her mind. "I'll go."

As a consequence, the date was very different from what Effie would ever have planned. In order not to disappoint anybody, Katniss accepted Gale's date at the cinema, but with Peeta in tow. And since Haymitch couldn't justify leaving Katniss alone with two young men full of testosterone, he decided to go with them. Or rather to escort them, since Effie had selected tickets for an old-fashioned, romantic drive-in cinema.

Noisily, Haymitch sipped on his Coke, enjoying the view of the big screen while he remembered how much fun he had once had on the back seat of his old pickup.

"Who picked the movie?" Peeta asked innocently.

"My aunt," Gale answered through clenched teeth while he silently cursed the two other men who were sitting in the car with him.

"This could be rough, kids," Haymitch smirked. "Embrace the probability of a soppy, sentimental love story."

As it turned out, he was completely wrong. The longer the movie went on, the lower Katniss sank down in her seat, sitting right next to Haymitch in the back, holding her two hands in front of her pale face, simply horrified.

How could Effie have chosen this film?

"What, what does the woman with the whip..." she stammered.

Gale rolled his eyes and looked at his smartphone for the hundredth time. This girl must have come from a nunnery, it shot through his head.

"No!" She clasped her hands in horror, but was unable to take her eyes off the screen. "That's, that's ..."

"What's the matter? She's got the whip, not him." Haymitch pointed out.

Peeta cleared his throat, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. "Could we please drive home?"

Totally satisfied with himself, Gale stepped on the gas: he'd thought they'd never ask.

...

Stopping in front of Abernathy's house, Gale waited just long enough for them all to climb out before driving away as fast as he could, hoping to see none of them ever again.

Still feeling awkward, Peeta cleared his dry throat, trying to salvage the situation as he said, "I think a cup of hot tea would be a good idea, wouldn't it?"

Haymitch nodded, eyeing the girl next to him who was staring at the curb, still unwilling to look at anybody, before giving his nephew the door-key and watching him walk up to the house, heading off into the darkness.

"Hey, Swee-"

"Stop it!" Katniss hissed, crossing her arms over her chest as she lowered her head, hiding herself behind a curtain of black hair.

"Come on, Katniss, I didn't choose the movie," Haymitch said in a reasonable voice, shrugging. "And Effie didn't either."

The young woman ignored his words, while Haymitch leaned casually against his garden fence, taking in the sight of her. Her lips were pressed together in a hard, thin line and her usual pale face showed a hint of pink. Finally, he let his eyes wander further, up to the magnificent, endless evening sky.

"I didn't expect anything else from Hawthorne," he said tonelessly.

Katniss just snorted, pulling her denim jacket closer around her slender body.

"What the hell was the moron thinking?"

"Well, maybe he wanted to get rid of you as fast as possible." Haymitch shrugged his broad shoulders. "Or he wanted you on his backseat, sweetheart; we'll never know."

The girl inhaled sharply, glaring at him while his eyes glittered with mirth.

"Fine," she answered grimly, swearing to herself that if she ever saw Gale again, she would shoot an arrow right into his arrogant head.

Finally, she pulled herself together and turned around, ready to walk home on her small kitten heels.

"Hey, Katniss, haven't you forgotten something?"

The young woman stopped, turning back to the man at the fence. "Forgotten what?" Small wrinkles appeared on her forehead.

"What about Peeta?" Haymitch asked, still in a calm tone, crossing one ankle over the other.

"What about him?" she asked, perplexed.

"I think he deserves a chance."

"Why?" Katniss asked, pulling a face.

"Because he's a good kid," Haymitch said mildly, not impressed by her petulant behavior.

The wrinkles on her forehead deepened, and a dark shadow fell over her face before she answered.

"I'm not looking for a boyfriend and I haven't asked anyone to interfere in my affairs!" she spat.

Slowly, he shook his head, smiling to himself. Such a beautiful face but stubborn as hell, he thought, as he pushed himself away from the wooden fence, walking towards her, never letting his piercing blue eyes move away from hers. Finally, Haymitch stopped in front of her, putting his hands out of his pockets, and reached out, taking a lock of her hair in his hand, brushing his fingers smoothly over the dark curl.

"When was the last time you were kissed?" he asked bluntly.

"What?" she asked perplexed, feeling his warm breath on her chilled skin.

"A real kiss, one that takes your breath away and sets your body on fire." His voice was soft, hypnotic in her ears and a strange sensation crept over her as she stared at him, totally baffled by his behavior.

"I guess," he whispered softly, leaning close, not letting his gaze leave hers. "You've been waiting for this kiss for a lifetime."

His words were gentle, persuasive, so she closed her eyes, tilting her head and parting her sensual lips, full of anticipation...

"The tea's ready," a clear voice called from the kitchen window, and Haymitch took a step back; his hand released her silky lock, and the magic of the moment was gone.

"See, sweetheart," he said with glittering eyes. "Peeta's a really good kid."

Feeling as if someone had thrown a glass of cold water right into her face, Katniss nodded, longing for Haymitch's touch again as she added Peeta to her to-shoot list, right behind Gale.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The faint melody of an old jukebox could be heard, and Katniss let her gaze wander through the small, wood-paneled bar. It was somewhat run-down but cozily decorated, with friendly staff behind the bar and she felt almost at home.

"Here are the drinks."

"Thank you," Katniss said, grabbing her drink and taking a long sip of her Long Island iced tea. Immediately, she felt the warming effect of the alcohol, spreading throughout her body, calming her.

"Your uncle told me that he was once in South America," the young woman said, avoiding Peeta's gaze as she looked at the slice of lemon on her glass. "Is it true?"

A small smile played around Peeta's lips.

"Yes, it is," he confirmed.

Her slender fingers started playing with the straw, shifting small pieces of ice around the glass. "He also told me that he left because of a woman."

Peeta's smile widened. Since he had picked Katniss up, she had asked endless questions about his uncle, in such a clumsy way that Peeta was sure she would be completely useless as a spy.

"Well," he leaned back and crossed his legs casually, trying his best to make himself comfortable in the simple wooden chair. "His former high school love dumped him when he went to Alaska to mine gold," Peeta said, sipping at his beer. "Shortly afterwards, she married not only the oldest man in the mountains but also the richest," the young man added. "Overnight, Effie became very wealthy."

Katniss almost dropped her drink, raising her voice. _"Effie_ was engaged to Haymitch? That means she must be at least for-"

"Shhh." Peeta shook his head, lowering his voice and gave her a conspiratorial grin. "Effie isn't a day older than thirty, okay, Katniss?"

The girl nodded slowly and took the hint as she imagined the two of them together. The simple-minded provincial princess and the quick-witted young man with the I-couldn't care-less-about-anything attitude.

Her dark eyes fixed again on the drink in front of her. "And now," she asked hesitantly, not sure if she wanted to know the answer, "do they still have feelings for each other?"

"Definitely," Peeta said.

"Oh," Katniss answered lamely, shifting her weight as she tried her best to hide her true feelings behind a blank facial expression.

"But not friendly," he said, shrugging. "But why are you asking me this?"

"Well…" She faltered, searching for words while her trembling fingers grabbed the end of her braid, starting to play with it. "I'm working for both of them so I'd like to know a bit more about them."

"I understand." Peeta bit into his cheek to stop himself from smiling.

"And now..." Katniss asked, her eyes back on her nearly empty glass, cursing herself for her own cowardice.

"And now?" Peeta asked.

"Is he alone?" She tried to speak casually, knowing she was the lousiest actress in the whole of Kentucky.

Peeta nodded, and a shadow fell over his young, handsome face, darkening his clear blue eyes.

"My uncle took care of me after my parents died in a traffic accident eight years ago."

Astonished, Katniss straightened her back, putting her elbows on the small table, while her gaze went to Peeta, who was playing absent-mindedly with the beer glass in his hand. After a while he took a long sip, before continuing.

"I know my uncle pretty well and know how warm and caring he is." A slow smile spread over Peeta's lips, and Katniss was able to see small dimples in his rosy cheeks. "But I also know how easily he makes a mess of things, so that no woman has ever stayed with him for long." Peeta laughed, but it didn't sound happy at all. "I don't know how many times he's introduced me to someone new, a Lizzy or a Maggie…" The young man laughed again, running a hand through his blond hair, and Katniss's thoughts wandered to Haymitch. "But none of them stayed long."

Peeta let his shoulders sink. "I moved away to go to university two years ago and I guess since then his alcohol consumption has increased a lot." He shrugged, feeling guilty. "My uncle has always had a weakness for liquor, but when I lived him, he restricted it, so he wouldn't get into trouble with the welfare services..."

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Peeta," Katniss said gravely, feeling connected to him, as she had never overcome the painful death of her beloved father so many years before.

Peeta nodded but finally shook off the gloomy past and looked into the bright future. His eyes started sparkling like stars as he took his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a photo of a young woman. "This is Delly," he said proudly, stroking the small picture tenderly with his fingertips. "We've only known each other for six weeks, but I know she's the woman I'm going to marry one day."

Katniss swallowed, keeping her face carefully blank, her tongue thick as she followed his gaze to the picture in his well-groomed hand. She hoped with every fiber of her being that someday she would find someone who loved her as much as Peeta loved the girl in the photograph.

...

"Are you sure you can't stay a little longer?" Haymitch asked as he threw the heavy travel bag into the backseat of Peeta's old Nissan.

"No, sorry, I have to go home; the lectures are waiting for me."

"Wasn't she your type?" Haymitch raised his eyebrows questioningly, searching for a sign of hope in Peeta's face. "Come on, she isn't that ugly." He tried a joke.

The young man laughed kind-heartedly, but got into his car, putting on his seatbelt, before looking at his uncle. "No, she isn't, but I'm happily in love and cannot wait to see Delly again."

Haymitch took a step back from the car, and smiled at his nephew proudly. He was the first in the family to attend university, but much more importantly, Peeta's heart was in the right place.

Always.

"What about you?" the young man asked.

"What about me?" Haymitch repeated slowly, scratching the back of his head. "Well, I guess, I'll go back home, dust off my expensive whiskey collection, join the local yoga club and..."

Peeta rolled his eyes. "I mean Katniss."

"Oh, sweetheart," Haymitch drawled and looked into the far distance as if he was thinking hard. "Well, if you don't want her and she doesn't like Gale either, we'll have to sell her to the highest bidder in the next village."

Peeta had to suppress a grin. "She likes you."

Haymitch snorted so hard he almost fell over while he reached out with one hand, looking for support, and leaned against the small car. "When did she confess that to you; last night by moonshine?" he mocked.

Peeta smiled good-heartedly, still believing in a happy end for everyone. "I think she has a soft spot for you."

"Yeah, sure," Haymitch's voice sounded snarky, but his keen eyes flashed brightly, not offended by his nephew's words at all.

"Who knows?" the young man answered cheerfully, giving him a boyish smile and drove away, sure that fickle fate would finally work in his uncle's favor.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Katniss parked her old Ford at the roadside, turned her eyes and looked out of the driver's window. After meeting Peeta, she had thought about her generous employer for countless hours, about his colorful past and even more about his confusing behavior two nights before. Had he really tried to kiss her or had it been his usual way of teasing her?

Katniss sighed, glancing back at the steering wheel in front of her. At home in her small room, staring at the ceiling endlessly, she had decided to get an answer.

Now, just before the end, she wasn't sure about her decision anymore. What would happen if she had misinterpreted everything, and he didn't want anything from her? She wasn't in the mood to make a fool of herself.

Damn, Katniss cursed passionately, as she opened the top buttons of her shirt, unbundling her long, tightly braided hair and draping it seductively over her shoulders.

She wanted an answer to her question, and with a shove she opened the driver's door, ready to enter the arena.

When Haymitch opened his front door, he hesitated for a moment before finding his voice.

"Violence is never a solution, sweetheart."

Katniss rolled her eyes. "It's for your 3-foot-high lawn."

Haymitch didn't move an inch, but looked from Katniss to the scythe in her hand and back again. "Where did you get that?"

"Found it in our barn," she answered, trying her best not to scowl at him. "Can I come in?"

Haymitch stepped aside, and finally a smug grin appeared on his face. He would never admit it out loud but he had missed her.

"If you chop your fingers off, I'll have to look for another cleaning lady," he pointed out.

"Funny."

With the scythe in her hand, she went into the kitchen, putting the sickle in a corner and started unpacking her worn-out backpack. She lined up a loaf of bread and a couple of tin cans with beans in front of him before sitting down on one of his wooden kitchen chairs.

"Can I get something to drink?" she asked innocently.

"Water?" he offered.

Katniss cleared her throat loudly. "No, rather, rather... whiskey."

Haymitch's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, while he eyed her suspiciously. What did the girl have in mind? "Well," finally he shrugged. "If you think it'll make gardening easier." More than generous, he poured her a glass of whiskey and set it on the table in front of her.

"All yours."

"Has Peeta left?" she asked and Haymitch nodded, leaning with his back against the sink, looking at her.

"He's nice," Katniss started.

Haymitch didn't answer, just nodded slowly, before his eyes left Katniss and wandered towards the kitchen window, asking himself when he'd see his nephew again.

"It's a pity that he's already taken," Katniss said while she took the glass in her hand, taking a big, greedy sip of it.

As expected, the whiskey tasted unpleasantly bitter and burned mercilessly in her throat. She barely managed not to pull a face. Bravely she took another sip and clenched her teeth: the taste was simply disgusting.

How could anyone ever get used to it?

But after some sips, the alcohol began to show its pleasant effects; her whole body heated up, and she felt lighter, even a bit carefree.

Courageously, she took a step forward. "But he isn't really my type..."

Haymitch snorted in disbelief, ready to defend his beloved nephew. "Wasn't he good enough for you?" he mocked.

"Too young," she mumbled between two sips.

Totally surprised, he shot her a long glance, judging her carefully and taking his time before answering. "Well, that's fine, sweetheart. In the next town lives a gentleman who went to school with my father," Haymitch folded his arms across his chest. "Old Coriolanus is a widower, but in good condition: maybe I can arrange a date for -"

"Not that old!" she hissed and took a long sip from the glass. "More like...," Katniss took a deep breath and realized that she was getting slightly dizzy. "Forty."

"Forty?" Haymitch drawled, and absent-mindedly stroked the rough stubble on his jaw with one hand while Katniss's dark eyes followed the movement, almost hypnotized. "Tricky, I wouldn't know anyone in the area."

Idiot!

Brushing her long hair out of her face, she forced herself to concentrate. What had she read about the art of seduction? Physical contact was important.

As if she were on a hunt her eyes narrowed to slits, before putting the glass to her mouth and drained it. After all, she pushed herself out of the chair, ready to attack.

Haymitch had watched the whole scene play out without any comment, wondering what it all meant. The girl had drunk the whiskey as if it were milk: if he'd known, he would have filled the glass with water. As fussy as her movements were, she wasn't aware of what the alcohol in her body was doing.

As soon as Katniss stood on her feet, the whole room started spinning in front of her eyes. Desperately, she reached with shaking fingers for the edge of the kitchen table, missing it clumsily and she staggered backwards, falling hard against the cabinets.

Sighing, he crouched down in front of her, sitting on his heels and placing his hands gently on either side of her snow-white face. "Why did you do that?" he asked mildly.

Simply horrified that she might throw up in front of him, she pressed her hands desperately over her mouth as hot tears ran down her face, and with a swift movement he helped her up, trying to lead her to the bathroom, but Katniss stubbornly shook her head, her hands still clamped over her mouth.

But finally, her body was more powerful than her will, and with shaking hands she clawed at the kitchen sink as the whiskey found its way back to the surface, while Haymitch held her long, black hair back from her face, suppressing a groan.

Countless tears streamed down Katniss's pale face as she choked every last drop of alcohol out of her body, and when he was sure that nothing would follow, he took a glass out of the cupboard, filled it with water, and handed it to her. With trembling hands, the girl gratefully accepted the glass, her eyes fixed on the floor, unable to look into his eyes ever again.

He guided her with his hand on her back toward the couch. Realizing that struggling was pointless, Katniss sat down without any hesitation and lowered her painful, throbbing head onto one of the soft pillows, pulling her knees up to her chin.

The chattering of her teeth filled the room, and Haymitch pulled a woolen blanket over her slim form, before walking back to the hall, searching for a bucket in the closet and placing it next to her.

Later, when he came back to the sofa with a steaming cup of tea in his hand, the young woman had already fallen asleep. She had curled in on herself like a little ball, pulling the warm blanket over her face, hoping not to wake up ever again.

Very quietly, he put the herbal tea on the small coffee table and dropped into his cozy armchair, kicking off his shoes and stretching out his long legs, putting them under Katniss's warm blanket and reached for a novel by Hemingway, sure that this would be a long, long afternoon.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Here?"

Katniss nodded her throbbing head.

"Pretty ugly," he commented, indicating the house they'd pulled up alongside.

The young woman just shrugged. If Katniss hadn't felt so miserable, she would have fought back, but she only licked her dry lips and unbuckled herself. "Thanks for driving," she muttered.

"Can you make it home or should I help?" Haymitch asked, glancing sceptically at her.

"I'm okay," she lied through her teeth as she got out of the jeep, still feeling completely exhausted. "I'll get my car tomorrow."

"Don't forget the lawn, sweetheart, the scythe is still waiting for you," he tried a little joke but Katniss only rolled her eyes. Weak-kneed and trembling, she staggered towards the door, dragging her backpack behind her while Haymitch's keen eyes followed her.

The old porch was literally falling apart, and the rest of the small house didn't look any better. He guessed that in the last decade no one had done anything to keep it in a reasonably good condition. Most of the wooden slats looked rotten, the nails were rusty and the white paint was coming off. The dilapidated veranda was packed with every kind of litter; an old broken washing machine, empty crates, laundry stands and countless garbage bags.

Reaching the door, she turned around, trying her best to bring a smile to her pale features as she raised her right hand in farewell. Haymitch reflected her movement, before starting the engine, preparing to drive away, lost in dark thoughts.

...

"Hi, mom,"

"What took you so long, darling?"

The girl hung the door-key on a simple handmade wooden board, putting her backpack in a corner, before she turned and smiled faintly towards her mother.

Her mom was in her early forties, blond, petite, the complete opposite of her oldest daughter. Once she had been charming, lovely, but after the tragic death of her beloved husband, Kathleen Everdeen had aged dramatically, long before her time.

She had given up on herself, her work, her household and almost on her children.

On good days, she was able to step out on the porch to get some fresh air and do some cleaning, but most of the time she was at home, sitting by the window, looking down the street with a broken look on her once beautiful face.

"The garden is nothing but thorns, mom; it'll take forever to get it in shape."

In answer, Kathleen smiled faintly at her eldest daughter who reminded her so painfully of her late husband. The same fine dark hair which was wrapped around her head like a cap, full sensual red lips and bright, clever eyes which grasped every movement.

But finally, no longer able to bear the ghosts of the past, the older woman turned her tired eyes back to the soundless television, starting to hum a little song from happy childhood memories, forgetting about her daughter immediately.

"I'll start dinner soon," Katniss said, before heading upstairs, going into the small bedroom which she shared with her little sister.

"Was that your boss?" a young clear voice welcomed her.

Katniss rolled her eyes playfully. "Are you curious, little duck?"

"He looks nice," The teenaged girl grinned mischievously from her worn-out beanbag, petting her beloved tomcat on her lap.

"You don't say," Katniss answered, keeping her pale face carefully impassive, afraid of giving anything away.

Her _boss_ had taken care of her, tucking her in under a cosy warm blanket, making her a cup of disgusting smelling herbal tea and advising her to eat some salt crackers to soothe her stomach.

The whole time, she'd glanced at everything in the room except him, ready to escape at any moment.

But Haymitch hadn't let her go. Convinced that the young woman wasn't fit to face her small family, he'd refused to drive her home. Instead, he'd chosen a novel from among his countless books and had made himself comfortable on the sofa, just beside his guest.

He could easily sense her discomfort as she'd lowered her head, hiding her pale face behind a curtain of black hair, but she'd made no protest as he'd laid his hand gently on her ice-cold feet as he'd started reading aloud, telling her a tale of a distant and mysterious place in Africa.

Listening to his soothing voice, she'd relaxed, cuddling deeper under the woollen blanket, and finally, after years of too much responsibility in her young life, she'd felt sheltered.

Protected.

"How old is he?" Prim asked innocently, bringing her sister back to the present as she turned a blonde curl playfully around her index finger.

"Too old for you!" Katniss answered, glancing at her little but cunning sister. Still feeling ill, Katniss stripped off her dark blouse, looking at it and finally rolling it into a ball. What ever happened, she would never wear it again. The memories of this morning were too embarrassing.

"Well," the young girl answered, "then he suits you much better than me." As fast as an arrow, Katniss turned around and threw her crumpled blouse in the direction of her sister. Laughingly, she dodged and the red-colored cat slipped hissing from her lap.

The unkempt little tiger walked away on his four paws, huffy. He had always known he couldn't trust the black-haired can opener.

...

Arriving home, he parked the jeep in the double garage, entered his quiet and lonely house through the comfortable veranda, and placed the old scythe in the garden as his mind wandered back to his afternoon guest and the miserable little house she lived in.

It was the end of spring, and ice and cold were still far away, yet he tried to remember if he had seen any firewood on the porch. The locals were used to freezing temperatures below zero, but Katniss' house didn't look as if it could survive the approaching winter.

Finally, he drew a deep breath and ran a hand through his longish hair, before looking for some whisky in the kitchen boards, deciding to ask Katniss if she needed any help as soon as he saw her again.

But the young woman didn't show up.

Not the next day and not the following. By the morning of the third day, her rusty car had disappeared and he wondered what had happened to make her avoid him like hell.

At noon, he fell heavily onto his scuffed leather couch, a bottle of firewater in his trembling hand. He studied the bottle long and hard before placing the rim to his thin lips, passionately cursing the day she had knocked on his damn door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The afternoon sun shone on Katniss' back and warmed it pleasantly. Although it was summer the house never got really warm. It always felt damp and the wood panels smelled rotten, and the girl's melancholy thoughts moved unhappily to her former small but cozy apartment in the distant city.

"Don't you have anything to do, dear?" Her mother's voice sounded from the kitchen, but Katniss just shrugged her shoulders, ignoring the question. She had spent the last days at home, wallowing in her own misery, trying her best to forget the painful reality beyond the door.

Just like her mother did.

Since her return three days ago, she hadn't showered or changed her smelly clothes. She'd only left the house once, like a thief in the night, to pick up her car.

Dressed in her father's old bathrobe over worn-out pajamas, she sat on the sagging couch, eating a cheap yogurt, almost the last food she had found in the bleak fridge.

No matter how hard Katniss tried, her mind always wandered back to her embarrassing behavior. If Haymitch had ever felt the desire to press his lips against hers that must be gone forever.

Painfully, she pressed her fingernails into her palms, cursing herself for her stupid, childish behavior.

"Katniss!" Her mother's small voice called fearfully from the kitchen, and the young woman jumped up.

"What's the matter, Mom?"

"A car…"

No one stopped at their door, except creditors, but all the bills were paid, they weren't in anyone's debt. Katniss's quick glance fell on her bow in the corner: if it came to a choice between running away and fighting, she would fight.

"Stay back, mom," she said firmly, and pushed her mother behind her back just as there was an ominous knock at the front door.

Both women held their breath, exchanging fearful glances until Katniss signaled with a finger to her lips to be completely silent while she reached for her bow.

"Anyone at home?"

With a loud bang, Katniss dropped the bow and cursed to herself. Resolutely, but with trembling hands, she ripped the front door open.

Taken by surprise, Haymitch took a step back and stared at the young woman in the doorway. If her intention was to frighten him away, she had nearly done it.

Fully aware of how unkempt and unattractive she must look, Katniss straightened her back and kept her chin up, trying her best to ignore the greasy crow's nest of hair on her head.

"Can we talk?" Haymitch asked calmly, taking in the sight of her.

The young woman's eyes were storm-ridden, furious, and her sensual lips were pressed together in a hard line.

Nothing new for him.

"Maybe outside?" He pointed with his chin toward the porch.

Katniss frowned but said nothing. Finally, she shuffled outside, letting the door fall into the lock behind her.

"What's up?" he demanded.

"Nothing," she answered coolly, avoiding his gaze, staring intensely at the old pine trees across the street.

"Nothing?" Haymitch echoed, leaning with his back against the porch. "Why didn't you come to work?"

The girl just shrugged. "I guessed you'd sacked me."

"Why?" A light smile played across his lips, making his mouth twitch. "Because you chose the wrong wash cycle and my socks shrunk to the smallest size? Or because you threw my beloved Rolling Stones magazines away?"

Katniss pulled her worn-out pajamas tighter around her slender body, her face burning, still not in the mood to look into his eyes. "Unintentionally," she muttered.

"Or because you drunk my whiskey like a fish and..."

With a quick movement, Katniss turned around, ready to run back into the house and to barricade herself inside forever, but he was faster, stronger, and he caught the sleeve of her robe, stopping her.

Full of anger, she tried to pull away, but he blocked her with his solid body, forcing her to sit down on a small broken bench next to him, much closer than she liked.

"I want to know the truth, Katniss," he growled, digging his fingers into her upper arms, holding her in place. "What happened?"

Finally, she looked straight into his piercing blue eyes, taking a deep breath. "Why did you try to kiss me?"

For a moment he simply stared back at her, speechless, blinking in confusion.

"What?"

Furiously, Katniss' hands started to tremble, and she felt the strong desire to give him a hard, painful kick, even if it was only against his shin.

"That's still in your head, sweetheart?" he asked, chuckling deep in his throat.

"Stop it!" Katniss snapped, trying her best to free herself from his iron grip.

"Only if you listen to me!"

"Begin," she hissed, not sure if she wanted to hear his words, as his hands relaxed their hard grip on her arm.

"Listen, Katniss, I'm deeply sorry if I've upset you but I'm not as good and honorable as Peeta..."

The girl's eyes lost their focus, staring into nothing. He was sorry, she told herself bitterly. She should have known that everything was just a mistake, a complete misunderstanding. How could she have been so foolish, thinking that he was interested in her?

"When I see a chance, I try to grab it." Haymitch didn't let his intense eyes leave hers. "You are strong-willed, honest with a beautiful face…"

She forced herself back to the present.

"What?" she asked, almost without a voice, staring at him.

He couldn't help himself, and stretched his thin lips into a smile.

"Math isn't your strength, is it?"

"Math?"

And finally, Haymitch decided that actions spoke louder than words. He pulled her closer and his mouth touched hers.

His lips were so soft and delicate, so completely different from his usual arrogant behavior that the sweet, gentle kiss took her breath away.

Forcefully, without any finesse, she crashed her lips against his, burying her hands deep in his hair, holding him close. The girl was sure that if he broke the kiss, she would die, but with a smirk on his features he freed himself, holding her wrists gently while he gazed into her dark, glowing eyes.

"Better, sweetheart?" he asked quietly and Katniss just nodded, unable to answer, a swarm of butterflies flying around in her stomach, causing her heart to race.

"Will you come back with me?" he whispered into her ear.

Aware of how unkempt and neglected she looked; the girl shook her head. Amused, he could read in her mind like in an open book. "I've got plenty of boiling water at my house..." he said, chuckling.

And Katniss thought about it.

For exactly one, long second.

And gave in.

...

Starving, greedy, thirsty for one another, they barely made it over the threshold before Katniss ripped her ugly pajama shirt off and tugged eagerly at the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers trembled, almost failing to open his shirt collar but she was unable to keep her lips off his.

Later, neither of them could tell how they had made it up the stairs with his heavy hands all over her naked body and his mouth pressed to her soft, seductive breasts. Finally, the hot water fell down on them, like tingling needle pricks, chasing a warm shower after the other over their naked bodies as their lips pressed incessantly against each other.

Katniss had never thought that his kisses would be so possessive, so sweet, better than anything she had ever felt in her whole life, and she buried her long fingers in his hair, pulling hard enough to hurt.

With a deep rumble in his chest, Haymitch enjoyed the pain while his lips moved on, kissing her slender neck as her fingers wandered to his broad shoulders, digging into them.

His hands slid to her breasts, teasing them until she gasped, and as he pressed her against the cold marble wall with his body, Katniss threw her head back in pleasure.

Involuntarily, her legs wrapped around his hips, gripping him tightly, eager to get everything she could from him.

With a deep groan escaping his lips, he pressed into her. It happened so fast that it took Katniss's breath away and with a long, passionate kiss Haymitch sealed her sensual lips, massaging her firm butt with his hands until she relaxed, feeling pleasure again.

As she ran her fingernails incessantly over his wet scalp, he started moving.

It was sweet torture, feeling him moving, pushing deeper into her. Gasping, she tried to adjust to his rhythm, his increasing tempo, and she pushed her pelvis eagerly towards him as a shower of pleasure ran down her spine, already addicted to this new, completely unknown feeling.

As her body was already tightening around him with every hard thrust, he knew he wouldn't go for long, and he brushed his fingers over her swollen bud, playing with it until she moaned.

And finally, with his name on her lips, she climaxed, pulling him over the edge with her.

Afterwards, still gasping for air, his fingertips circled gently over her hips as her trembling feet touched the cold ground again. "Are you staying?" he asked, rubbing his cheek against the wet strands of her dark hair, catching it with his stubble.

Instead of answering, Katniss did something she'd never done before as long as he had known her.

She laughed, giving him a painful smack against his broad chest.

"You're only looking for someone to cut your stupid lawn, right?"

Giving her a crooked smile, Haymitch placed his fingers under her chin, guiding her soft lips to his. "Exactly," he teased.

Katniss Everdeen was the best damn fate that could ever have happened to him.

_Fin_

_..._

_I would like say thank you to my oldest son and his scout group as inspiration for the story :)_


End file.
